I was in Izmir to watch "The Marriage of Figaro," an opera I have explored in my own soprano novel. Mozart’s masterpiece flows seamlessly, giving his characters voice through music while weaving social tension into comedy. Yet, while watching this production, I couldn’t help but notice a chain of missteps on stage: weaknesses in direction, inconsistent casting and performers attempting to interpret Mozart without fully understanding his style.
The stage itself presented a challenging environment. Dust lingered in the air and paper and trash were scattered across the set, visible to the audience. Creating art under such conditions must be difficult for performers and it points to broader management issues. It seemed that the Izmir opera director might not fully grasp the scope of these problems. Since the era of ballet and orchestra managers began in Turkish opera, the quality on stage has often suffered. These administrators, unfamiliar with opera production and the nuances of casting, have sometimes done more harm than good. For the art form to thrive, opera houses must prioritize artistic leadership over administrative convenience, as the current system has overseen one of the worst periods in the history of Turkish opera.
The production’s set seemed inspired by "One Thousand and One Nights," rather than evoking a noble chateau or a count’s luxurious chamber. In the servant-master scenes, it was often unclear who held authority. The director appeared to string together highlights of the opera sequentially, rather than creating a cohesive, layered narrative. The chorus demonstrated disciplined singing, yet remained mostly stationary, unable to fully integrate into the action. With stronger direction, their participation could have enriched the opera’s layered texture.
Onstage, the performances were uneven. Ignas Melnikas’s "Figaro" struggled to inhabit the role fully. His high notes occasionally cracked, and his voice pressed heavily from chest and throat, typical of some Eastern European singers. His acting often emphasized self-display rather than character, and in ensemble passages, his low notes barely projected. Onstage with the count and countess, he exuded confidence as if he were the master, forgetting that "Figaro" is a servant.
In contrast, Ayşe Şenoğul’s "Susanna" offered a refined, elastic vocal line, blending well with the orchestra despite challenges in fast ensemble passages. Although her onstage chemistry with "Figaro" faltered, she often compensated for his weaknesses in duets. In scenes with the countess, however, she sometimes projected the air of a lady of the house rather than a servant, momentarily disrupting the opera’s natural flow. Despite these moments, she remained one of the evening’s strongest performers.
Görkem Ibrahim Özcan’s count demonstrated notable vocal control and technical command. Balanced chest tones conveyed aristocratic authority, though his high notes occasionally sounded tenorial, slightly diminishing the character’s presence. His acting was steady, if somewhat static, contrasting with the dynamic energy brought to the stage by "Cherubino," performed by Başak Karataş. Her bright, youthful voice and energetic performance captured the role’s vitality, balancing technique and acting, and she appeared most attuned to Mozart’s style after the conductor.
Beril Er’s countess leaned toward a Puccini-like vocal style, lacking the transparency and agility Mozart demands. She struggled with high passages, and her acting did not clearly assert authority over Susanna, affecting the household’s dynamics onstage. Supporting roles were similarly uneven. Sabri Çapanoğlu’s "Bartolo," though possessing a rich bass, struggled with a dark, matte tone and occasional tempo lapses. Çiğdem Tezişçi’s "Marcellina" was experienced but displayed vocal wear, while Murat Direk’s "Basilio," though pleasant, had projection challenges, particularly in resonant nasal passages. Melisa Özdemir sang "Barbarina" beautifully but with a breadth and maturity that sometimes destabilized Mozart’s delicate phrasing.
Among the evening’s highlights was Christopher Gagliardo’s "Antonio." He brought the character’s rustic, boisterous energy to life with clear theatrical presence, while his vocal clarity and rhythmic discipline demonstrated a strong grasp of Mozart’s style. Even in brief appearances, he fulfilled critical ensemble roles, making one wonder if he might have been a more fitting Figaro. Fırat Halavut’s "Don Curzio" captured the character’s bureaucratic and slightly caricatured nature, though he struggled to project fully.
The orchestra and production elements also revealed challenges. The chorus, disciplined in voice, could not move freely due to staging constraints and the set – though imaginative – lacked coherence with the story’s social and spatial context. The combination of external hires for key roles and management decisions further highlighted systemic issues. Despite talented local singers capable of performing Mozart, Ignas Melnikas was brought from outside, and for other productions, external directors and conductors were hired even when in-house personnel were available. These decisions, coupled with extra payments to retired professionals and luxury accommodations, raise questions about fiscal responsibility and priorities within the Turkish opera system.
Ultimately, the evening was a mix of potential and mismanagement. Mozart’s work still shone in moments where performers aligned with his style and performers like Şenoğul, Karataş, Özcan and Gagliardo showcased the enduring power of the music. Yet, the production as a whole suffered from weak direction, inconsistent performances and management choices that undermined the art. For Turkish opera to flourish, it must reconcile its talent with leadership that understands both the artistic and practical demands of staging a masterpiece like "The Marriage of Figaro."
